


Simple Gifts

by Shidoni8



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Christmas, Gen, Hanukkah, Sweaters, holiday fun, saurian brandy, why not?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 12:12:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8979205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shidoni8/pseuds/Shidoni8
Summary: The request/prompt was "Jim, Bones and Spock in ugly sweaters" and me being the feels addict that I am, it morphed just a little.





	

Jim Kirk groaned, shifting once again through the paperwork he’d been sorting all morning, when the door alert pinged. “Come in,” he called, distracted by the files and logs before him.

“Hey, Jim!” Leonard McCoy practically burst into the captain’s quarters with a bottle of aged Saurian brandy. “We’ve just docked at Starbase 46, thought I’d deliver the good news in person.”

Jim looked up from his desk, only raising his eyebrows as his friend set the bottle on a shelf.

“Oh, this old thing?” Bones said with no small helping of false modesty, “just a little something for tonight. Aged 12 years, according to my sources.”

“Oh?” Jim echoed, finally putting the papers aside and letting a small smile sneak up on him. “And what, may I ask, is the occasion?”

“You mean to tell me,” he said flatly, “you don’t know what day it is?” McCoy’s bemused expression, and his deadpan voice were both exaggerated for comedic effect, but Jim was genuinely confused.

“Shore leave, I suppose, but I wasn’t planning on taking the night off. Is it somebody’s birthday or something?”

“You’re joking, Jim! It’s Christmas tonight! The Holidays! Jingle bells and all that! Well, on Earth anyway. Technically we’re several hours off of Earth GMT, but Jim you must have noticed the crew’s been bouncing off the walls to have a chance at syncing their shore leave with the holidays!”

The captain was shocked. Could he have been so unobservant? He had been pretty busy in the time since their last mission, and of course the passing of Terran seasons was very nearly inconsequential on a starship.

“Well, Bones, what have I missed? I’m sure you can fill me in on the festivities?”

“As a matter of fact,” he said proudly, “you ought to come see the preparations for the holiday party, in the rec room. They had to get real creative with the decorations, but boy did it turn out!”

Jim stood decisively, “let’s check it out. I need to stop looking at this paperwork before it imprints itself on my corneas.”

>(///)<

As soon as they entered the rec room, even before the decorations caught his eye, Jim noticed Spock, standing precariously on a chair. Several other members of the crew were decking the room with creative substitutes for the traditional strings of lights, stockings, candy-canes, ornaments, candles, wreaths and other festive things. A particularly creative Jewish crewmember from engineering was just completing the circuits on a fully electronic menorah. A woman in a hijab, blue to match her uniform, looked to be practicing a poem by the name of Qasida Burda. Spock’s purpose was evident by the handmade string of garland which another crewmember delivered to him gradually as he hung it on tiny hooks placed near the ceiling.

“Getting into the holiday spirit are we, Mr. Spock?” Bones teased, as they drew near.

“It is advantageous,” Spock grunted, “for someone of my height,” he reached a little farther, “to aid the crew in decorating.” He finally placed the end of the garland on the last tiny hook.

“Spock,” Jim interrupted, “are you planning on going to the starbase for recreation this evening, or attending the holiday party here?”

“Neither, Captain.” Spock carefully lowered himself down from the chair. “There is much I can do in the labs, and several current research projects for which time is a critical factor.”

“Oh, boo, Spock!" Bones interjected. "Your science experiments don’t need baby-sitting. Come join us tonight for a drink at least? Then again, you don’t partake do you? I don’t suppose our pleasant company is enough to tempt you?”

“I shall keep your invitation in mind,” Spock said, with that mysterious Vulcan twinkle in his eye that said he’d do as he pleased, regardless of niceties.

*too-wee-ooh* The bosun’s whistle signaled open communications to the bridge. Nyota’s voice, as expected, came from the speaker by the rec-room door.

“Mr. Spock, you have a message from Starbase. Would you to receive it now, or should I send it to your quarters?”  
  
“This monitor is acceptable, Lieutenant. Thank you.”

He had hardly begun to read the message on the screen when his eyebrow shot upward in a look of surprise.

“What could possibly be that shocking, Spock?” Bones asked, hoping it hadn’t been bad news, or anything too personal.

“It appears I have received a package at the Starbase, I must retrieve it before the shipping office closes. If you’ll excuse me, Doctor, Captain.” He gave them a cursory nod and left the room with an unhurried swiftness that only Spock could possess.

Jim and Bones looked at each other with nearly identical expressions of puzzlement.

They parted ways for the afternoon, with a promise to share a drink that evening and toast the holidays.

>(///)<

That evening, Jim and Leonard found themselves in Jim’s quarters, hunched over the table with laughter, remembering an embarrassing comment Pavel had made at the last diplomatic dinner they’d hosted on Enterprise. Bones was just pouring them second glasses of the brandy , which they agreed was the best they had ever tasted, when the door slid open to reveal Mr. Spock and one fairly large package.

“Spock, I’m glad you decided to join us!” Jim grinned up at him. “Care for a drink tonight?”

“Perhaps,” Spock said thoughtfully, “for a special occasion such as this evening.”

Jim began to pour another snifter as Bones asked, “Spock, why haven’t you opened your package yet? It must be important, considering the cost of shipping.”

“Even if I desired to do so, I have been prohibited,” he handed them a note, and joined them at the table. “This was sent with the package. The sender has a somewhat romantic nature, and a terran sense of humor.”

McCoy read aloud from the note, “ _‘Open this present only in the presence of your crew-mates and friends, James Kirk and Doctor McCoy. Stay warm. ~Amanda Grayson’_ ”

“Stay warm?” Bones mused.

“Your mother?” Jim was awed at the sentiment. Interstellar shipping! What a human, motherly thing to do. They had only met once, when Spock’s father had come aboard for a diplomatic mission that turned life-or-death. The impression his mother had given was ultimately being one of the most caring people in the universe, so it wasn’t surprising that she would sent a gift, regardless of the cost.

Spock began to open the package. Inside, nestled between sheets of blue and white tissue paper, the folds of woolen fabric began to take shape as Spock pulled each item out and laid it on the table.

“Sweaters!?” Bones hooted, laughter bursting out of him. “Warm! She said, didn’t she?” He bent double, shaking with mirth.

“She did mention, in our last communication, that she had begun to practice knitting…” Spock finally said, having simply stared at the woolly garments for several long moments.

“May I?” Jim looked to Spock, who nodded. He picked one up and turned it over. The wool was rough, and if you looked very closely you could see that each stitch wasn’t always perfectly uniform. Sewn into the back of the collar, where a tag might be, was a scrap of fabric with a name embroidered into it. His name. Spock had picked up Leonard’s sweater to examine, and they quickly traded, examining their gifts.

Jim’s sweater was command gold, or as near to it as Amanda must have found in yarn. Running in a border around the hem and sleeves was a pattern of holly and bells that clashed terribly with the mustardy gold of the background.

Bones had a blue sweater, of course, with a border of angels. They must have been angels because somewhere in the pattern it was possible to make out wings and halos. The finer details were a bit lost in the uneven stitches.

Spock’s sweater wasn’t blue, like Bones’, though it would have matched his uniform. It was a brilliant shade of green, somewhere between mint and lime, that you couldn’t look at for too long or your eyes would begin to hurt. The border around the hem and sleeves was, of course, hearts. The perfect symbol of a loving mother. Spock knew, even as she’d knitted along to the pattern, she must have known he would not wish to wear it. Many emotions warred, and he fought back against the fear within him. He tried, instead, to nurture the care, consideration, and respect that he knew were the components of the love he felt for his mother.

“This really is, the most extraordinary gift I’ve ever gotten,” Jim said, still awed. Suddenly, he grinned. “Let’s wear them to the holiday party,” his eyes lit up with excitement.

“Captain, I am not certain that is-”

“Come on, Spock! This is the one time we’ll be able to get away with wearing these gifts in public. At least until next year. Bones-” Jim turned to the doctor, but he was already pulling his sweater on with glee.

“It is decided then,” Spock said, somewhat resigned. They drained their glasses and headed for the rec room.

>(///)<

They had arrived to the party to choruses of compliments about their sweaters, and much to Spock’s relief nobody had seemed derisive or found them anything but remarkable. Nyota in particular was awed at the patterns and had gone on at length about how well the angels suited Bones; he was only a little abashed at that.

“She knows you three so well," Nyota beamed, "and she’s only been to the Enterprise once!”

The evening had been a full success, and the party was finally winding down.

They’d joined in some of the games that were already going, and then Spock had even dueted with Nyota on his lute. Somebody boasted that they could sing the Twelve Days of Christmas from memory and without error, which led to the group singing along to every holiday song any member of the crew could recall. They all ate, drank and enjoyed each other’s company.

“To a new ship’s year, a new terran year, and the same good company of the best crew in the fleet!” Jim toasted, to many cheers.


End file.
